


cumbersome and heavy

by crashing_meteors



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Clone Troopers Speak Mando'a (Star Wars), Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Swearing, like seriously sorry for all the mando'a
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29832333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crashing_meteors/pseuds/crashing_meteors
Summary: What happens to reconditioned clones? No one really knows; it's one of those top-secret Kaminoan experiment things that usually are better left unsaid. It happens, though, and on rare occasion, men even survive the experience. They don't usually feel like men at the end of it.-A story about a clone trooper who'd always been a good soldier, until he wasn't, and what happens after.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	cumbersome and heavy

“CT-0515, do you understand why you are here?”

The trooper doesn’t respond, cannot respond. He’s lost track of how many times the Kaminoans have asked him that question, how many times they’ve forced him to go through the same grueling process. He can barely remember what the world looks like outside of sterile white walls. There’s a flash, and the trooper blinks as if snapping out of a daze.

“CT-0515, do you understand why you are here?” the Kaminoan, Yara-Vi he thinks she’s called, asks him again.

“I am here because I am defective,” the trooper responds dutifully, every line of regulations and rules stamped on his unwilling brain, weighing him down like rocks in his boots. “I am going to be made useful again.”

“Very good,” Yara-Vi tells him soothingly, although there’s an edge to her voice as she taps away at a datapad. “You may retire, CT-0515, and we will begin again tomorrow.”

The trooper salutes his host stiffly before lying down in his observation pod, feeling more like a child’s science experiment than ever. The Kaminoans keep eyes on him, even in his sleep, apparently afraid he’ll kill himself, or worse, attack one of them. CT-0515 hates it, he hates the brightness of the room and the comfort of the bed and the isolation of the pod. He never thought he’d miss getting kicked in the face by one of his brothers while they try to get comfy on the rocky terrain of a strange planet.

So many of his brothers, dead now, because of him. CT-0515 closes his eyes and lets the sedatives do their work - it’s easier when he doesn’t have to think about it.

-

-

-

The reconditioning doesn’t go poorly so much as slowly. That is to say, CT-0515 improves in the eyes of his Kaminoan researchers, however gradually. CT-0515 doesn’t have an opinion one way or the other.

He’s an unusual case, or so he’s figured out from how diligently his observers scramble to record his behavior. CT-0515 has proven himself valuable to the Kaminoans’ research, as Yara-Vi had told him when he first returned to his homeworld.

“Your unwavering loyalty to your commanding officers is exemplary,” she had said, and CT-0515 believed she meant it as a compliment. “This trait distinguishes you - not every clone is applicable for reconditioning.”

“Then...what happens to the ones who aren’t?” he had asked her nervously, already petrified at the idea of what his creators had in store for him. Yara-Vi had merely frowned, gesturing for the troopers escorting him to lead him away. That had been the last time CT-0515 had seen another brother, and neither of his guards would meet his eyes as they left him.

Of course, CT-0515 isn’t an idiot. Clones are expensive and in shorter supply all the time, but disobedient clones are worse than none at all. It’s not far into his stay on Kamino that CT-0515 realizes - clones not applicable for reconditioning are unceremoniously terminated, and those applicable are lucky if they survive the process in one piece.

Distantly, he wonders if his captain knew this before he’d let them take CT-0515 away. He’d deserve it, either way.

It’s hard to describe his experiences because they’re constantly changing. They sit him in front of a holoscreen and prompt him with questions, and if he answers one wrong they shock him. They do this for hours until he only answers correctly, and then they shove him in a target range and give him a blaster, and they force him to shoot again and again and again until the only thing he can hear is the ringing of blaster fire. His ears play tricks on him even in the isolation pod, mimicking the sound of blaster fire in the cramped chamber.

Some days they have him exercise to the point of exhaustion, other days they make him lie still while they poke and prod at him and force him to feel every single bit of it. If he complains, or makes any indication he’s in pain, they flash those horrible bright lights at him, and the little part of CT-0515 that feels like _him_ fades away more and more each time. It’s that feeling, by far, that is worse than any torture they can put him through, so he tries as hard as he can to do well.

He always was good at following orders.

Mercy comes eventually, and it’s not his programming or his training or his goddamn reconditioning that frees him, but the things he learned from his brothers. From his friends.

“Again, CT-0515,” Yara-Vi commands him, sounding particularly smug as she has the trooper demonstrate his skill in front of several onlookers, General Shaak Ti included.

CT-0515 does as he’s told, taking apart the Y-Wing ion jet engine meticulously and at lightning speed, before putting it back together again neatly. Impressed murmurs echo throughout the room. Another Kaminoan congratulates Yara-Vi.

“Very impressive, trooper,” the General says, stepping forward and smiling kindly at him. CT-0515 stands at attention, wondering bitterly where the Jedi had been before he was all shiny again. “How are you feeling?”

“Fit for duty, sir,” CT-0515 replies in a crisp, measured voice, and Shaak Ti’s smile drops a touch as she regards him worriedly. Before she can ask him anything more, however, Yara-Vi is already speaking proudly of her achievement.

“As you can see, though it is inadvisable to return this trooper to the front, he is more than capable of continued service to the Republic,” Yara-Vi tells the room at large. “He has a particular way with machinery - my recommendation would be an engineer designation on a core world, Coruscant or Corellia perhaps.”

“Your skill is impressive,” Shaak Ti says, still addressing the trooper directly. “But you are a trooper, not personnel. Where did you learn this?” CT-0515 can’t help it - he recoils, struck by the memory of his brothers helping him fix his speeder, of his captain telling him they’re all practically personnel what with the General teaching them how to rewire droids and commandeer fighters-

“My-my squad mates, sir,” CT-0515 manages to say, holding his shaking hands at his sides and hoping desperately that Yara-Vi won’t find his hesitancy unsatisfactory. Shaak Ti frowns deeper at his visceral reaction.

“Unusual, to be sure,” Yara-Vi says, striding purposefully over to CT-0515 but maintaining an aura of calm - no doubt wanting to appear in control in front of the others. “But very useful.”

“I agree,” Shaak Ti says thoughtfully. “CT-0515 has much to offer us, still. Although, we may as well start calling him CP-0515.”

CT, no, CP-0515 lets himself sigh in relief. A new designation means he’s been approved for duty, which means he’s getting out of here and away from the longnecks. It’s not ideal, of course - what he really wants is to make things right with his brothers. But then, who’s to say they’d forgive him, after all he’s done? No, maybe this is better, he thinks to himself as he tries to still his hands. Fresh start. Clean slate. _Cin vhetin._

“Are you certain you’re ready for this, trooper?” the general asks as the Kaminoans filter out of the room. “No one would blame you if you wished to spend more time here on Kamino. You’ve been through quite an ordeal.”

CP-0515 wants to scream. She has no idea.

“All I want is to be back out there, serving the Republic,” CP-0515 says through gritted teeth, hands curled into fists. “Helping my brothers.”

The general nods, offering him a small, sad smile.

“Then I wish you well,” she says quietly, “and hope that you find your new designation to your liking. May the force be with you.”

CP-0515 feels like he’s choking as the Jedi leaves, hears the laughter of a monster ringing in his ears. He wants to crawl out of his skin.

He hopes for Corellia - from what he understands, there’s not many Jedi on Corellia.

-

-

-

CP-0515 quickly becomes the Jolt Company’s most exemplary soldier - he gets his work done in record time, he never talks back, and when he isn't working in the shipyard, he’s keeping up with his physical training regiment to the point of exhaustion. It's kind of intense, really.

"Sir, I've finished my quota for the day," CP-0515 tells his sergeant, a man whose beard always seems to be on the verge of coming in. "Where else may I be of use?"

The sergeant, called Shadow, looks up from the reports he'd been writing in surprise, checking his holopad for the time.

"Trooper, we're a little more than halfway through the workday, and you're already done?" Sergeant Shadow asks in disbelief, smiling a little.

"Yes, sir," CP-0515 replies. "Where else may I be of use?"

The sergeant chuckles good-naturedly, rising from his desk and gesturing for his newest recruit to follow him. CP-0515 complies, hoping Shadow will lead him to an engine in need of repair. Instead, they head toward the mess.

"Kid, I know things were different on the front," Shadow tells him gently once they're a good distance away from the rest of the men. "But you're doing good work here, I promise. Take a break. Grab some grub - can't remember the last time I saw you eat."

CP-0515 stiffens, but salutes his sergeant and does as he's told. He wolfs down lunch like a man starved (he really hasn’t eaten in a while), and then isolates himself in the empty barracks. He knows Shadow means well, of course, but there's nothing quite so horrible to CP-0515 as being alone with his thoughts. He ignores the voices in his head and tries to sleep.

The boys in the shipyard don't really try all that hard to get to know him, and CP-0515 is grateful for it. He doesn't really think he's built for friends, anyway. Mostly, the trooper just finds himself getting annoyed at his brothers' incompetence - honestly, you'd think they'd never seen a speeder before.

"You're doing it wrong," he finally snaps at the pair across from him, startling them into dropping their tools. One of the mechanics, a hothead they call Leap, grimaces at him, the intricate geometric tattoo on his right temple wrinkling a little.

"Yeah, new guy?" Leap growls. "Why don't you fix this damned thing, if you're so smart."

CP-0515 sighs and leaves his own speeder, kneeling down to inspect the vehicle giving his compatriots so much trouble. He examines it closely, taking a rag and cleaning off a bit of oil, and he can feel Leap starting to grin smugly.

"See, _vod,"_ Leap murmurs to the other mechanic, Crossbones, "he's all talk and no-"

Leap quiets abruptly when CP-0515 takes a harriss wrench and slams it against the bottom of the speeder forcefully. There's quiet for a moment, and then suddenly the engine hums loudly, as though it'd never been broken at all.

"Whoa!" Crossbones says in excitement, ignoring the unimpressed look Leap is giving him. "How'd you know to do that?"

"My brother was always breaking speeders," CP-0515 explains, wiping his hands. "Running them too close to jagged terrain. Usually, it just needs a good hard kick."

Leap and Crossbones look awkwardly between one another as though they're debating something they want to say. CP-0515 realizes too late that this was the first time he's mentioned his old company to anyone on Corellia, and that they no doubt knew he used to fight on the frontlines The trooper braces himself, preparing for a flood of questions.

It never comes, though, Leap just shrugs the information off like it's nothing.

"Sounds pretty stupid," Leap mutters.

"Yeah," CP-0515 reminisces affectionately. "He was."

"Well, thanks, _vod,"_ Crossbones says, smiling and scratching at the shaved part of his undercut. "I'm coming to you next time I can't figure these stupid things out. This idiot was useless-"

"Hey!"

CP-0515 leaves the two mechanics to argue amongst themselves - he appreciates the compliment, but secretly he hopes Crossbones doesn't plan to follow through on the suggestion. All CP-0515 wants is to do his work and keep his head down and forget everything else.

That doesn't happen, of course. CP-0515 aids Crossbones a second time. Then a third. Soon, the whole floor knows the new guy has "the magic touch", and they come to him with a whole host of issues. Shadow starts to take notice, and CP-0515 is almost certain he's going to be punished for insubordination, but Shadow just nudges him affectionately.

"Getting used to the boys, huh?" Shadow asks him grinning. "Our production's been up since you arrived. Glad to have you around, kid."

It's good to hear he's become invaluable, but it's disconcerting that the change has happened at the cost of CP-0515's anonymity. He can't even pretend to be another mechanic, what with the distinct tattoo covering most of his face preventing him from being able to fool anyone. Still, CP-0515 would never turn away his brothers' requests for help. Mostly because their lack of basic knowledge drives him up a tree.

"Are you serious?" CP-0515 says exasperatedly. "You don't know how to program an escape pod? That's basic training!"

"What do you want from me!" Mechanic Spits says, running his hand through his cerulean hair. "They had us designated and shipped off halfway through combat training, no I don't know how to program an escape pod."

"Speak for yourself," Leap grunts, sweating as he hammers in the siding of the engine he's working on. "Spits and his batch are half-baked shinies, me and Crossbones, we finished our training all the way through."

"The only thing half-baked is your coc-"

"This is where you plug in the coordinates," CP-0515 interrupts before Spits can finish his sentence. Leap looks ready for a fight, as he always does, and that will just slow down their production for the day. CP-0515 can't have that kind of failure coming back to bite them; he needs these boys to be just as invaluable as he is.

(Just because he doesn't want to have to learn the ins and outs of a new team, of course. It had nothing to do with this burgeoning sense of loyalty towards his new brothers.)

He hears the rumors that slip around as the other mechanics curiously attempt to discern why he went for reconditioning in the first place. Strangely enough, though, they never ask for his name. It's not until one night when everyone is meant to be sleeping and CP-0515 needs to use the 'fresher, that he learns the reason why.

There's a gentle waft of strange-smelling smoke coming from the staircase leading down to the production floor. Spice. CP-0515 hasn't smelled it much, but he's sure that's what the miscreants are smoking - that's what his _brothers_ are smoking, as evidenced by the familiar voices.

CP-0515 is ready to march right over to Shadow's bunk and recount what he's witnessed when the voices on the steps stop him in his tracks.

"Usually it's 'cause of a crime or something, that's what I've heard,'' Leap says in his low, rumbling voice. "But I don't buy it. Thought he was just putting on a show of being a good boy, but now I think it had to be something else."

"Trauma, maybe?" suggests a voice CP-0515 recognizes as belonging to Crossbones. There's a long intake of breath, and then Crossbones continues. "It's not common, but I've heard of it. It'd make sense why they put him here instead of with another attack battalion."

"Give me that," a new voice murmurs, and there's a bit of grunting and shuffling before the voices are quiet again.

"What do you figure his name is? He's got to have one, right?" someone says, and CP-0515 is fairly certain it's Spits talking.

"Maybe we could ask?" another shiny CP-0515 remembers as being called Ringer asks curiously. Someone scoffs.

"That's his business," Leap says firmly, and the other men murmur their agreement. "I trust the guy. I figure when he wants to talk, he'll talk."

CP-0515 should go, now. He has the names of the men smoking, he can sneak away to the bunks unheard and unseen, and report everything.

He's frozen in place.

Ungluing his lead feet from the floor, CP-0515 steps purposefully towards his destination, making sure to announce his presence with loud, echoing steps. The men on the stairs scramble, panicking in an attempt to hide the joint, no doubt.

"If you're gonna smoke that, do it outside," CP-0515 says once he reaches the landing. The men blink up at him in surprise, eyes reddened from the drug. "I could smell you halfway to the 'fresher."

"Oh. Hey. Umm," Crossbones stutters, mind racing to catch up with what's going on in front of him. He squints to determine who's speaking to them, the narrow x crossing his eyes wrinkling as he does. "Thanks for the heads up, _vod."_

CP-0515 rolls his eyes, before relieving himself in the refresher, and then returns to his bunk to fall asleep. After all, what the sarge doesn't know won't hurt him. He regrets not doing his duty, though, starting the very next day.

"Hey," Ringer says, sidling up to his workstation in what CP-0515's fairly certain is his first one-on-one conversation with the blonde clone. "Listen. You think you could cover for me? I'm supposed to be meeting my man tonight. I'll be back by dawn but just in case the sarge wakes up, tell him I'm shitting or something."

CP-0515 stares at Ringer, hard, waiting patiently for the other shoe to drop. Ringer shifts nervously from foot-to-foot, but he doesn't grin or anything - actually, he's watching Shadow warily as the sergeant speaks with a few other mechanics across the factory floor. Apparently this isn’t a joke.

"No."

"Aww, come on," Ringer whines, leaning over the table and positively ruining CP-0515's organization system. "I've been putting it off for weeks, he'll miss me."

"You'll be fine," CP-0515 snaps, pushing the younger clone off his workspace. Ringer, however, is undeterred, coming around to stand beside him. "Didn't you just get high last night? I think your dealer can wait."

"My dealer - Vonn isn't my dealer!" Ringer says a little too loudly. Leap curses at the outburst and throws a heavy tool at him. Ringer dodges it easily, though the loud clanging sound it makes as it hits the floor doesn’t help matters much.

"I don't even have a dealer," Ringer mutters. "Vonn's my...you know."

CP-0515 doesn't, in fact, know, and frankly, he doesn't want to, because the shiny is attracting enough unwanted attention as it is. A few of the others start to snicker and point at the scene Ringer is creating. Crossbones and Leap in particular are grinning ear-to-ear as they watch the exchange. 

"Oh, come on, don't make me say it," Ringer pleads, face reddening. CP-0515 is just beginning to grasp his meaning when Leap makes a series of inappropriate pelvic thrusts against his table while the rest of the men cackle. CP-0515 feels a brief surge of embarrassment but pushes it down - he's not risking getting in trouble, even for significant others - which are generally frowned upon, by the way.

"Leave the new guy alone," Crossbones says, making his way over to them and clapping Ringer's shoulder. "I was just messing with you, _vod,_ I'll cover for you.” Then, looking at CP-0515 he says to Ringer, “Don't you think he's already helped us enough?"

"Yeah, I know, I just..." Ringer trails off miserably, face completely flushed as the laughter of their fellow mechanics echoes around them. "I figured you'd be cool about it."

CP-0515 crosses his arms sternly and prepares a long speech about disobeying orders, but Ringer looks so ashamed he has a hard time getting the words out. Against his better judgment, CP-0515 lets the argument drop, for now.

"Why don't you just meet him when you're off-duty?" CP-0515 asks instead. Unlike the front, the clone engineers on Corellia are designated various intervals of off-duty time.

"He travels for work, our schedules never line up," Ringer explains. "No way I'm missing an opportunity to see him."

"We all need a little stress relief, right _vod?"_ Crossbones says to CP-0515 conspiratorially. CP-0515 shrugs and gets back to work, ignoring the jeers about the lovestruck shiny. CP-0515 has always done his duty, always followed every command to the letter, which usually means no entanglements.

Then again, he thinks to himself, watching as Ringer smiles happily even despite the teasing, things are different here on Corellia.

-

-

-

_He shoots at the enemy, even if it goes against everything he's been trained to do. The enemy doesn't look like the enemy, but it's a trick to catch them off-guard, they'd been told that much. He's a good soldier. He follows orders, no matter how badly his instincts scream in protest._

_There's a sudden commotion - someone's running through the middle of the firefight, but he doesn't stop shooting. They have their orders, no distractions._

_Suddenly everything halts and his brain isn't working, this isn't possible, because the face staring back at him is_ -

"Wake up, _vod."_

CP-0515 sits straight up in bed, head smacking the bunk above his own, hard. He flails his hands around, trying to determine what exactly is going on, searching for his blaster, but someone reaches their hands out and stills him.

"It was just a dream," the voice tells him. "Calm down."

CP-0515 blinks rapidly, attempting to adjust to the dark of their barracks, and sure enough, the horrible scene that had just played out was nothing more than an awful memory. Another clone engineer sits on his bed, a strong, heavy presence in his near-feverish state. CP-0515 rubs the back of his neck in an attempt to massage away the stiffness, and he realizes that the clone sitting with him is bunkmate, Andy. He and Andy have never spoken, apart from CP-0515 shaking the other mechanic awake in the mornings when he's slept in too late. CP-0515 isn't sure if them barely knowing one another makes him feel more or less vulnerable.

"Sorry I woke you," CP-0515 says quietly. 

Andy shrugs noncommittally. "I don't sleep much anyway."

"Right," CP-0515 says, feeling particularly awkward as Andy makes no move to get back into his own bunk. "Well, I'm fine now, so..."

"Yeah, sure," Andy agrees lightly, still resting on CP-0515's bunk.

"Look, I don't need a babysitter," CP-0515 snaps at last, crossing his arms and jutting his chin upwards. "So thanks, but have a good night."

Andy tilts his head to the side, watching CP-0515 in the darkness curiously. It makes CP-0515's cheeks start to heat up - if he's about to get made fun of for nightmares-

"We had an explosion a few months back," Andy says suddenly, surprising CP-0515. "Well, it's almost a year now. Feels like yesterday."

"It was a freak accident - the cooling unit on the transport delivering our fuel cells failed. No one knew. When we unloaded the thing-" Andy makes an explosive gesture with his hands, whistling as he does so and then adding a soft "boom" to the end of the display. "Honestly, it's a wonder we only lost one man. A lot of us were hurt, obviously. My left fingers still don't work right, and it’s how I got this.” Andy taps the gash that follows the length of his nose. “But one guy was inside the ship when it blew. He never even stood a chance."

"We were batchmates," Andy explains. "We were best friends. I know it's probably nothing like what you see on the front, but..."

CP-0515 understands what Andy's trying to get at, even if Andy himself can't quite say it - there's a reason his bunkmate has such a hard time getting up in the mornings. He faces the same demons CP-0515 does, in the late, quiet hours of the night.

"I'm sorry," CP-0515 says sincerely. Andy just shrugs.

"You ever been beyond the city limits?" his bunkmate asks, and CP-0515 can barely keep up with this constantly changing conversation, but he manages to shake his head no. Andy grins at him.

"You have to go. The stars are so bright in the countryside you'd think you could reach out and touch them. It's the closest I've ever felt to them, besides the trip from Kamino to here. My brother used to know all of Corellia's constellations, I can only remember a few..."

CP-0515 isn't sure when it happens, but he falls asleep at some point in the midst of Andy's story, lulled into slumber by the familiar comfort of his voice. When CP-0515 wakes up in the morning, Andy is back in his own bed, snoring past their wake-up call.

"Get up," CP-0515 says, nudging him more gently than he has in the past. Andy snorts loudly and jumps awake.

"Damn it," Andy groans, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "One of these days I'm just gonna refuse to get out of bed."

CP-0515 rolls his eyes and moves to get ready, but hesitates just a moment.

"Hey, um..." Andy looks at him curiously. "Thanks. For last night."

Andy smiles at him. "What are brothers for?"

-

-

-

Andy is the first friend CP-0515 has had since in his previous assignment, and despite his reservations, it's sort of nice to have someone else around. At the very least, it gives him someone to talk to when his head gets too loud. They attend most meals together, they trade innocuous stories about their past, and they entertain one another during the slower days on the floor.

Well, Andy entertains him. CP-0515 almost always finds something to do, even when there's so little work that Ringer manages to make a fortress out of a bunch of oil canisters.

"How many of those do you think he'll stack before they topple over?" Andy is currently sitting on the edge of CP-0515’s workstation, cup of caf in hand. CP-0515 wouldn't normally let anyone sit there, but Andy started doing it one day while he was distracted and now it's the only place his bunkmate can reliably be found.

"No more than a dozen," CP-0515 says, not looking up from the speeder he's cleaning.

"Oh. He's well past that." Grudgingly, CP-0515 spares the shiny a glance - Andy's right, he's already at about 16 canisters, the next on the way. CP-0515 makes a small noise of surprise, and then promptly returns to his duties.

"Let me know when he hits 20. Then I'll be impressed."

"You think he'll concuss himself?" Andy asks, and CP-0515 can't help the snort he lets out, an amused grin crossing his face. The scene plays out in his head: Ringer, dwarfed by a mountain of oil canisters, attempting to steady one in the middle and the whole thing toppling over onto his unguarded head.

"Maybe we should tell him to put his bucket on," CP-0515 suggests with absolutely no intention of doing so.

"Maybe," Andy agrees, taking another sip of his caf and also making no move to warn their brother. "Hey, you manage to switch off with Leap?"

CP-0515 nods stiffly. He's never attempted to change schedules, even though there's nothing really prohibiting them from doing so if they can get their shifts covered. Mainly he's just never had any reason to take a weekend to himself before. Andy has been bugging him to get off for an upcoming meteor shower, though, so CP-0515 traded with Leap - against his better judgment.

"Don't look so miserable," says Andy with a roll of his eyes, though he's smiling as he says it. "We're going somewhere rural - I know you don't like a lot of people. Big open field."

CP-0515 relaxes a little, even if Andy's assessment is a little off. It's not that he doesn't like people, it's just that he doesn't know how to act around civvies. And, more embarrassingly, the location matters less than the timing - CP-0515 doesn't want to admit he's afraid of the dark. Still, Andy keeps stressing they're headed to a field, which means no claustrophobic flora, nowhere for the enemy to hide. Maybe it won't be too bad.

"And you're sure about the weather?" CP-0515 asks for what's probably the 10th time. The capital city of Coronet is located near the vast Corellian Sea and experiences no shortage of rainfall. Andy appears aghast at the question.

"What, you think I haven't checked?" he replies, nearly splashing his caf as he gestures it wildy at CP-0515. "Clear skies, all next week, _vod._ Stop trying to get out of this."

CP-0515 huffs indignantly, but just as he opens his mouth to insist otherwise, there's a sudden shout followed by a loud clatter. CP-0515 turns in time to watch Ringer get pinned to the grimy floor of the workshop. Leap is beside him, on his hands and knees, laughing so hard that he's also crying. Spits erases the board that lists the days since their last workplace injury, and CP-0515 notes that he gets there suspiciously fast, almost as though he'd been waiting for this moment to arrive.

"Is he gonna get up?" CP-0515 asks in concern as Ringer remains motionless and buried. Andy shrugs. Another minute passes of Ringer failing to extricate himself from the oil canisters, and CP-0515 sighs as he stands, taking pity on his brother as Leap turns red in the face. He knows what it's like to be the one picked-on, and it can get old, sometimes. CP-0515 locates Ringer's head and starts there, removing the first canister. Ringer blinks up at him.

"This would go faster if you tried to get out," CP-0515 offers, trying not to let show his relief that Ringer is still conscious.

"Just leave me here to die," Ringer replies in a monotone, "suffocated by 22 oil canisters."

"Technically you didn't get the 22'nd one in place," Spits points out helpfully.

"Right. Suffocated by 21 oil canisters."

"21's not bad," CP-0515 tells him, resenting the fact that he's genuinely impressed. CP-0515 doesn't think he could stack more than 10 without either failing or losing patience himself.

"It's not 50."

"Yeah, that was never happening," Leap says with a chuckle, finally aiding CP-0515 in the canister clean-up. "Just consider yourself lucky that the damn things didn't open on you."

Ringer lies motionless on the floor long after the cans have been cleaned away, recounting his failure in dramatic glory to any who cross this side of the workshop to ask CP-0515 a question or borrow a tool. It keeps the shiny out of CP-0515's hair, so he doesn't even criticize the melodrama.

He's getting quite a soft spot for his Corellian brothers, and his gut twists nervously at the thought. Being loyal to his brothers is better than being loyal to the Jedi (he only knows too well how that can go), but they could still turn on him, they could still decide he's too awkward or too stiff, if only he could turn off that part of himself that cares like he used to do-

"I still can't believe you've never seen a meteor shower," Andy comments. CP-0515 swallows thickly and forces the train of thought to halt, squashing it in the back corners of his mind.

"Never had much reason to look up." Andy tilts his head in the way he always does, like if he studies CP-0515's face hard enough he'll gain some insight. "It better not rain."

"It won't."

-

-

-

"Wow."

"Shut the hell up."

"No, really. I've never seen anything like this."

"I said shut up."

"Can you believe it? _Rain._ Imagine if we got to see the meteor shower, too-"

"So help me, _vod,_ I will shove those monoculars so far up your ass you'll be shitting glass for a month."

CP-0515 can't help it - he laughs. Really, truly, genuinely laughs. The kind of laugh when something is so hysterically absurd you can't even wrap your mind around it, you just have to stand there and wheeze like a broken-down generator. The effect is only made worse by Andy's disgruntled appearance, the other clone's arms crossed irritably as rain runs down his armor in sheets.

The trip to the countryside had taken nearly two hours, though the sky hadn't begun to darken until the last stretch. Andy had reassured CP-0515 repeatedly that the clouds would pass. Almost the very second they had stopped their speeders, the sky had opened up without so much as a warning droplet. CP-0515 didn't have to say "I told you so" - it was written all over his face as he replaced his helmet with deliberate slowness.

"I'm glad you're having fun," Andy mutters, but even through the vocoder CP-0515 can tell there's no real heat behind the comment. In all fairness, this is CP-0515's first outing beyond the factory, excluding a handful of pick-ups and drop-offs at the Coronet spaceport, and he's having a better time than he'd expected.

Andy had been right about the location - low rolling fields of green populated by nothing but a distant herd of murras. CP-0515 has never seen this much open space before. After Kamino, every planet he'd traveled to was either densely forested or made up entirely of sharp, stony inclines - not that he'd gone on that many missions before Corellia. They'd ridden the whole way here without their buckets, and CP-0515 had found the freshness of the planet surprisingly pleasant. It's quiet out here, beyond the confines of the city. CP-0515 thinks, maybe, he could begin to feel at ease.

If the ground weren't sopping wet, of course.

"Ah, this is a bust," Andy says after a while, the rain letting up a little but the clouds above remaining thick and obscuring the stars. "I don't even have a clean pair of blacks, for fuck's sake."

CP-0515 wrinkles his nose at his bunkmate's laziness but doesn't see the need to make him feel any worse about the failed outing. "You can borrow mine. You sure you don't want to wait it out? It might clear."

"'It might clear'," Andy repeats in a high voice, making a mocking gesture with his hands. "Yeah, and I might marry the Chancellor. Let's just go before the bikes rust."

CP-0515 shrugs, finding he has no sudden urge to leave, but straddles his own speeder and follows Andy back towards the city. He feels just a tinge of regret as the metropolis comes into view, bright lights and heavy machinery flooding his vision, but it's not all bad. The wind whips at them as they go, and the warmth of his dry clothes is calling his name.

"What do you say we just go to Low Tide next time?" CP-0515 suggests as they dry off, and Andy jerks up in surprise. Low Tide is one of the few Capital City bars that serve clones, so long as you can pay. Most of the floor has invited CP-0515 out there at least once.

"You're serious?" Andy watches him carefully, his hair dripping wet from the rain, the long, jagged scar down his nose illuminated by the dim light of the bunker. CP-0515 steels himself, not wanting to lose his nerve.

"Probably drier, right?" Andy throws a towel at him.

"And here I was gonna offer to buy your first round," Andy grunts. "Fuck that shit."

CP-0515 chuckles, laying back in bed. He'd only gone out once before Corellia, to the Coruscant bar, 79's. His brother had dragged him, eager to meet some civvies and get the full experience their fellow troopers had spoken so highly of. CP-0515 really didn't get the appeal - it was mostly clones, anyway, and the drinks seemed ridiculously priced, especially since they don't get paid.

But Corellia has been different in a lot of ways so far, and the boys had been begging him to join them (a fact that never ceased to surprise him). Maybe this place would be different, too.

CP-0515 doesn't let himself think too hard about the fact that he might be the one changing. He can't tell what's his own growth and what might've been implanted on Kamino, although, rationally, he doubts the Kaminoans would've made any real effort to instill him with things like "fun" and "companionship".

-

-

-

He's right - Low Tide is different from 79's. It's still mostly clones, but the ratio isn't as severe. In fact, the sheer amount of civvies makes CP-0515 so anxious he orders two drinks right off the bat - one of which is paid for by Andy, their previous argument forgotten. CP-0515 can't even find anyone he thinks of as particularly attractive, because they _all_ look attractive to him, in a way. They're just so...different, from the faces he's grown up around, from the face he avoids in the mirror. It's overwhelming.

"Eh, you'll get used to the looks, _vod,"_ Crossbones tells him, incorrectly reading CP-0515's pained expression. "They're just curious, though. Trying to figure out the right way to ask if our pricks are all the same size."

CP-0515 nearly spits out his drink and ends up choking on the overcompensating inhale. Andy pats his back lightly and ineffectually.

"What a disappointment Leap must be," Ringer says sagely, barely even reacting to the hard thump his aforementioned brother gives to the back of his head.

"Where the hell is your boyfriend?" Leap demands, and Ringer's face goes bright red. "I thought he was supposed to be taking you off our hands."

"He always shows up late," Spits explains magnanimously, speaking for Ringer, who is downing a shot of clear liquid. "He probably won't be here 'til - what, half-past one, Ringer?"

The blushing shiny makes a small noise of affirmation, busying himself with his drink. CP-0515 notes that Ringer never denies his relationship status, that even under the embarrassment there's a happy little smile on his brother's face. Relationships were practically unheard of in his old company - but apparently are more common here. Even Shadow had had something serious going on in the past, according to Crossbones. CP-0515 just doesn't understand how they can get so comfortable, what with the war changing every waking minute. Then again, if they've never experienced war firsthand...

Andy's watching him, CP-0515 can feel it. The other mechanics devolve into a conversation revolving around the mysterious Vonn ("Wait, wait, wait - are you saying this guy is a smuggler?" "Not so loud!"), but Andy nudges him, eyes curious.

"Just surprised," CP-0515 explains, nodding to Ringer. Andy grins.

"I know. Can't believe anybody puts up with him."

"That's not what I-"

"I know," Andy says again, still smiling. "Just teasing, _vod."_

CP-0515 relaxes a little, lets himself sip at his drink instead of inhaling it, watches as Leap lectures Ringer on his taste in men. They're isolated enough that any civvies would have to strain to hear their conversation, the lights aren't too low to make him panic, and the alcohol is starting to slow his thoughts just a touch.

The music is less techno than 79's, more calming. According to Leap, they have artists perform once a week. CP-0515 finds himself wondering what it might be like, to watch a performance just for the hell of it. He's beginning to enjoy doing things just for the hell of it.

They're all reasonably drunk (except Spits, who's promised to remain "sober enough to get us home") when Vonn finally shows up, and CP-0515 quite suddenly understands the appeal of civvie entanglements, if not civvie commitments. Vonn is a tall, broad Twi'lek, with long blue lekku and bright blue eyes. He strides right up to Ringer and doesn't even hesitate to bend down and kiss the blonde clone with a passion usually reserved for holodramas. CP-0515 can't help his staring, but at least Andy is right beside him, sharing in his surprise.

Vonn holds Ringer's frankly blistering face in his hands and murmurs something in Twi'leki. CP-0515 doesn't know if Ringer understands the words but the shiny reacts, all the same, letting out an adoring sigh that would get him jeered at in the barracks. But they're not in the barracks, and Vonn's gaze is making CP-0515 hot in his armor, even if it's not directed at him.

"Won't you introduce me to your _nerras,_ your brothers?" Vonn asks in a low, smooth voice, though he doesn't seem particularly interested in anyone except Ringer.

"Y-yeah," Ringer stutters as Vonn releases his hold. Ringer goes around the table and names each clone in turn. CP-0515 has just enough sense to snap his mouth shut and nudge Andy to do the same. "And, well, you've met Spits..."

"Ringer speaks so highly of you all," Vonn tells them, and CP-0515 is fairly certain the entire table is blushing. "It's an honor to meet the men serving our Republic."

"Honor's all ours," Crossbones replies smoothly, lips pulled into a charming smile CP-0515's never seen him wear before. Ringer must notice because he stands abruptly.

"Let's get you a drink," Ringer says firmly, pulling Vonn away (smartly, in CP-0515's opinion) from the table and Crossbones. "They have Rylothan Yurp, you know..."

The table goes almost entirely silent as the couple leaves. Unlike CP-0515 and Andy, Leap never managed to properly reattach his jaw.

"Well. Vonn is-"

"He's Ringer's man," Spits reminds Crossbones, who puts his hands up innocently.

"I was just going to say he's, ah, polite," Crossbones amends, though his deep flush doesn't really scream "polite".

"Good for Ringer," CP-0515 murmurs, still trying to grasp what just happened.

"I'll drink to that," Andy says, clinking his glass against CP-0515's, and the other men voice their agreement, cheers-ing a little more aggressively than necessary. The night wears on, and Crossbones eventually disappears to flirt at the bar, Spits acting as his wingman (although CP-0515 gets the feeling he's actually just ensuring Crossbones doesn't try and swoop in on Vonn while Ringer's in the 'fresher). Leap spots a few clones he knows and gets roped into a game of sabacc he's losing terribly at, and CP-0515 and Andy are alone at the table when a pair of human women approach them.

"Are these seats taken?" the taller of the two asks politely. CP-0515 tries to determine if they're drunk before he remembers it's two in the morning, and everyone probably is, himself included. It's just he can't imagine why they'd want to sit with a couple of clones.

"Please," Andy says with more ease than CP-0515's said anything in his life, "we could use the company."

The tall girl, a brunette with pretty eyes, sits herself right next to CP-0515 and flashes him a broad smile. He glances at Andy for help, but Andy's too busy making polite conversation with her friend, so he's basically screwed.

"I love your tattoo," the tall girl points out, still smiling at him. CP-0515 does his best not to gulp cartoonishly.

"Thanks," he says, congratulating himself on managing to say the word without his voice cracking. CP-0515 takes a hefty sip of his drink to wet his mouth.

"So what's your designation? I've met a few clones, mostly mechanics," the woman says, and, really, she's being very nice, carrying the whole conversation for him. She's nice to look at, too, with long dark eyelashes. CP-0515 just feels he'd appreciate all of this a lot more if she weren't the first civvie he'd ever spoken to.

"Mechanic," he says jerkily, the word feeling awkward on his tongue. "I'm, well. Clone Engineer is my designation. But that's - um. I'm a mechanic."

"I'm an accountant for Corellian Transport Services, so I see you guys coming and going by the office sometimes," she says. "You must be awfully busy at the factory." CP-0515 snorts.

"Not really," he says, grinning. She gives him a confused look, and CP-0515 thinks he must have made a mistake somewhere along the way, so he tries to rectify it. "Do you, umm, do you like...accounting?"

"It pays the bills," she replies, waving her hand. "Not very interesting though. When I was a kid I wanted to be a sailor."

CP-0515 nods - he had childhood dreams once, too. Or whatever you call his experience as a cadet.

"I wanted to be a pilot." The pretty woman smiles at his comment, bats her pretty eyelashes at him, and moves a little closer.

"You wanted to explore, right?" she says, and CP-0515 nods in agreement, even though it's really only half-true. Clone pilots do get to do more exploring than their brethren, but they're also spoken of as heroes back on Kamino - they don't do practical flight training on the stormy planet, so it always felt more like a mythical tale than a real job.

"And look where we ended up - Coronet City, the land without sunshine." The woman places her hand on his arm as she speaks.

"I don't know, I like it here," CP-0515 says automatically, even as she leans against him. It's just how he feels - Corellia is better than anywhere else he's been.

"Yeah," she agrees, and CP-0515 doesn't know when her face got so close, but he can see that her brown eyes have hints of gold in them, like hidden jewels. "Sometimes it's not so bad."

He tries to formulate a response but his mind is basically blank. She just smiles more brightly, warm and pretty and _different._

"What's your name, soldier?" she asks him lowly, and CP-0515 freezes, jerking away from her on instinct, his whole body suddenly seizing up like a malfunctioning droid. The woman backs off, removing her hand. She's afraid of him, she's got to be, probably thinks he'll shoot the bar up any minute, starting with Andy-

"Oh, boy, looks like my brother's had too much to drink," Andy says suddenly, knocking shoulders with CP-0515 in a purposeful manner. "Maybe it's time we get you home. Sorry about that."

"It's fine, really," the brunette lady says, and when CP-0515 looks up, it's not fear in her pretty eyes, but concern. "I'm sorry if I...I'm sorry."

CP-0515 can't speak properly, so he just shakes his head, hoping that she understands it's not her fault, although he doesn't really know what just happened, either, so he's expecting a lot of her. Andy just waves the two women away good-naturedly, casual as you like, lowering his voice only once they're alone.

"Shit, sorry _vod,"_ he mutters, hauling CP-0515 up by the shoulders. "You were doing really well, though. You'll get 'em next time."

"I - I don't know what..." CP-0515 struggles to work through the sluggishness of his thoughts, his brain swirling. He can barely stumble along beside Andy, even with his brother leading the way, and CP-0515 realizes he's not just drunk, he's fucking wasted. "I fucked."

Andy raises his eyebrow but doesn't say a word until CP-0515 is leaning securely against the bar beside Spits, who looks positively delighted at CP-0515's current state.

"You fucked?" Andy repeats with a shit-eating grin. CP-0515 frowns, brow furrowing in concentration.

"You know," he says flatly, and Andy shakes his head. "Yes you do! I fucked!"

"Do you mean you fucked up?" Spits supplies helpfully. CP-0515 snaps his fingers clumsily in affirmation.

"He would've gotten there eventually," Andy says, obviously doing his best not to laugh. Then, speaking only to CP-0515, "You'll get used to tough questions, I promise. But that wasn't bad for your first civvie conversation, considering you can't even stand."

CP-0515 finds himself engaged in a mental battle - be embarrassed at his bizarre reaction, or be proud of his ability to, however briefly, impress a civilian woman? By the time Crossbones has rounded up Leap (who is nearly as drunk as CP-0515 but twice as poor), CP-0515 settles on the latter.

"What're you so happy about?" Leap grumbles, his pride bruised from losing so spectacularly at so many rounds of sabacc. CP-0515 beams.

"I did not. Fuck. Up." CP-0515 tells him, enunciating each word very clearly. Andy bites his fist and looks very close to fainting with the effort of trying not to laugh hysterically.

"No you didn't, buddy," Spits agrees,slowly losing patience as the night dies out. "Time to go."

"What about Ringer?" Leap asks in concern, looking around the bar wildly. Crossbones rolls his eyes.

"What about him?" Spits asks, herding all of them outside. "He went home with Vonn, dumbass."

Crossbones sighs, loudly and dramatically, looking for all the world as though his heart has been broken by Vonn’s departure with Ringer. Spits guides him roughly into the waiting speeder, Leap falling in beside them. 

“We’ll get the next one,” Andy offers, glancing at the cramped backseat of the speeder. The droid driver beeps in response, preparing to head out, but Leap stops him.

_“Ke’pare!_ We can fit, we can fit!” he insists, squishing Crossbones into a corner, the other clone laughing hysterically. _“Mhi ba’slana tome.”_

“You know he’s fucked up when the mando’a comes out,” Crossbones says, cackling at Leap’s butchered pronunciation. Andy gets CP-0515 into the cab and they’re all fit so tightly they’re practically sitting on one another. Andy knocks against the steel walls of the vehicle and the droid takes off.

“You guys are gonna teach us Mando’a one day, right?” Spits grumbles in annoyance, though his eyes are curious. “Think I deserve it after dealing with all your bullshit.”

_You didn’t learn on Kamino?_ CP-0515 tries to ask, but the words come out garbled and all he manages to say is, “Kamino?” Crossbones laughs even harder.

“None of the older brothers got the chance to teach us,” Spits says shrugging, catching CP-0515’s intended meaning. “And it’s not like the long-necks gave a shit.”

_“Kaminii hut’uuns,”_ CP-0515 growls, and the whole cab rumbles in agreement.

“Yeah, _vod,”_ Andy agrees darkly. _"Kaminii hut’uuns._ That’s your first lesson, Spits...”

They make it back to the barracks in one piece, although Leap is worse for wear. Between the crowded speeder cab and the jostling ride back home, Leap will probably be stuck over the toilet for the rest of the night. Spits is making sure he doesn’t die while Andy magnanimously dumps his clothes directly into the laundry room rather than down the chute to stink up the rest of the barracks. CP-0515, for his part, finds that his bed feels much more like a swaying transport ship than a solid cot, and listens idly as Crossbones grunts and curses and tries very hard to remove his armor.

“They make this - oh for fuck’s sake - so! Complicated!” Crossbones complains, finally managing to remove his cuirass. He’s still wearing his leg pieces but apparently, he gives up, choosing instead to flop dramatically onto CP-0515’s bed and, coincidentally, on CP-0515.

“Oof,” grunts CP-0515, feeling slightly less foggy but significantly more nauseated. “You’re as bad as Ringer sometimes...”

“Shut up. Move over. Shut up,” Crossbones mutters, nudging CP-0515 over so that they’re both lying on the bunk.

“What are we, cadets?” CP-0515 asks, and then his face breaks out into a grin, because this does feel like they’re cadets, staying up late and sharing beds and struggling with uniforms. He feels giddy and drunk, but Crossbones is looking at him seriously.

“Yes,” he answers, and CP-0515 almost laughs, but Crossbones keeps talking. “Look, I have to talk to you. Listen to me, okay?”

CP-0515 still has the urge to giggle, but he keeps it together. Crossbones smiles at him.

“I’m glad you’re here, _vod,”_ Crossbones explains, patting CP-0515 on the cheek.

“Me too,” CP-0515 agrees emphatically, awkwardly patting Crossbones’s cheek in return.

“And I’m extra glad you’re here because of Andy,” continues Crossbones. CP-0515 was confused before, but now he’s completely lost. What does Andy have to do with this?

“You know about Putter, right?” Crossbones says quietly, and even though the deceased clone has only been vaguely mentioned to CP-0515, he’d recognize the name anywhere. It’s the same one tattooed on Andy’s neck in aurebesh.

“After the explosion...Andy really wasn’t the same. Holed himself up, stopped talking to everybody. That was his _vod’ika,_ you know?” CP-0515 did know - he’d had a _vod’ika_ of his own in his old company, someone you’d he’d do anything to protect.

“Then you show up and bam. It’s like Andy’s back,” Crossbones says, emphasizing the sentiment with a sharp clap. “You’re like...his _vod’ika_ but not a _vod’ika.”_ Stubborn, childlike pride _(I’m not a little brother!)_ keeps him from agreeing right away, but deep down, he does kind of get it. Sometimes you’re the brother who cares, sometimes you’re the one being cared for.

“We’re all glad you’re here,” Crossbones reiterates. “Not just because of Andy but, you know. It’s good to have him back, too.”

CP-0515 realizes suddenly that these men aren’t just his acquaintances, they’re his friends. And Andy, smart and kind, is his best friend. And they all chose to be his friend, they all want to spend time with him, because they just. Like him.

CP-0515 tries to explain this epiphany to Crossbones, the urgent need to share this revelation overshadowing his filter, but there’s a low rumbling sound - Crossbones is snoring soundly.

“Cross? Come on, Cross, I’m hanging off the bed here,” CP-0515 complains, shoving his brother with all his strength, but Crossbones is deadweight beside him.

“I should’ve warned you,” Andy says, eyes lit up in amusement as he re-enters the barracks. “He always ends up sharing bunks when he drinks. Just so you know, he’s a cuddler.” As if to prove the point, Crossbones turns and throws his arm over CP-0515’s neck, practically choking him. Andy watches in delight, shaking with silent laughter, as CP-0515 struggles not to suffocate beneath their brother.

“What,” CP-0515 gasps after prying Crossbones’s arm off, “the _hell?”_

“What, you didn’t have one in your old company?” Andy teases, climbing into the top bunk. CP-0515 thinks back and realizes they did, in fact, have a cuddler, but CP-0515 never relaxed enough to hang out with the other boys to find out as much. CP-0515 supposes that, given the alternative, he’d prefer a little discomfort now and then to the feeling of otherness.

“Hey, _vod?”_ CP-0515 calls quietly.

“Yeah?” Andy calls back from the top bunk.

“I’m glad I’m here.” The upper bunk is silent for a little while, and CP-0515 prides himself on the fact that he only panics a little at Andy’s silence. When he responds, Andy’s voice sounds tight, like he’s trying to keep himself together.

“Me too, kid.”

-

-

-

The factory floor is buzzing with excited energy, and has been for weeks now. After Shadow had announced Jolt Company’s first legitimate mission in over a year, all of the boys are vying for the opportunity to see some action and finally prove themselves.

All of them except CP-0515.

He does his best to ignore the increasingly ridiculous tales of valor Spits and Ringer act out, biting his chapped lips with such ferocity they begin to bleed under the pressure. Spits aims an imaginary blaster rifle at Ringer, and the blonde clone clutches his heart, spinning around unnecessarily before collapsing in a very poor imitation of a dead droid. The fragile piece of equipment CP-0515’s been attempting to fix shatters in his hand.  
  
“Sorry,” he mumbles when the other men look at him in surprise. CP-0515’s hand is bleeding, and he knows he should pick the glass out of his palm, but he can’t even bring himself to look down, choosing instead to wrap the injury in a towel and burying the pieces further.

“You okay, _vod?”_ Ringer asks from the floor and CP-0515 feels like his head is going to explode.

“Get up,” he hisses, fury making his voice shake, the words feeling like poison on his tongue. It’s not until Andy places a heavy, steadying hand on CP-0515’s shoulder that he realizes he’s risen out of his stool. Everyone’s watching CP-0515 like a caged animal.

Oh well. Nothing good ever lasts.

“Let’s get you to the medbay, yeah?” Andy says quietly, guiding CP-0515 off the factory floor. CP-0515 can’t think over the roaring in his head, but when they arrive in the medbay, white and clean and smelling of bacta, CP-0515’s mind catches up.

“I’m sorry,” CP-0515 gasps in horror, digging his heels in the floor and wrenching out of Andy’s grasp. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I’m a good soldier I’m sorry-”

  
Andy gawks at him, and CP-0515 knows he must look pathetic, but he’s never been so desperate to avoid something in his entire life. He didn’t _mean_ to break the gauge, he didn’t _mean_ to snap at Ringer, he’s good and loyal and he’ll do anything as long as they don’t send him back to Kamino.

“Please enter the exam room,” comes the filtered, dispassionate voice of the medical droid, and CP-0515 backs himself against a wall.

“No,” he moans, closing his eyes and preparing to beg Andy on his hands and knees.

“Tell Winch to meet me in the barracks,” Andy says quickly, putting both his hands on CP-0515’s shoulders and steering them away from the medbay.

“This man needs medical attention. Please enter the-”

“I’ve got it,” Andy snaps irritably at the droid. “Back to your post.”

The metallic doors slide shut with a whooshing sound, but CP-0515 doesn’t stop mumbling apologies and pleas under his breath until he’s sitting on his bunk, until Andy’s removing the glass with a pair of tweezers. CP-0515 opens his eyes at last, surprised that they’re sat in the darkness of barracks and not on a sterile exam table, or worse, in the back of a transport ship headed for Kamino. CP-0515 realizes all at once that he’s not in trouble at all, that Andy never intended to hurt him, and that all his begging did was making him look like a fucking freak.

“Oh, fuck me.”

“Thanks but no thanks,” Andy says easily. “They do that sort of thing in your old company? Yikes.”

“Andy, I’m sor-”

“No,” Andy growls, pausing his work to meet CP-0515’s eyes. “Don’t fucking apologize for shit. You didn’t do anything wrong.” CP-0515 swallows the lump in his throat that feels like it’s choking him. He tries to voice appreciation and fails, choosing to remain quiet and allow Andy to continue his work. When all of the pieces are out and the blood cleaned, Andy begins wrapping CP-0515’s injured hand in gauze.

“I don’t-” Andy starts to say, and then he falters, sighing. “Fucking _Kaminii._ Me and you are brothers, alright? I’m not sending you back there. No one is. And if anyone tried to, they’d have to go through me, _tayli'bac?”_

It takes a few moments for CP-0515 to understand that Andy is waiting for a response - he nods, sharply, and Andy seems grimly satisfied.

  
“Good. I don’t know how it worked where you were before this, but we don’t betray our brothers-”

“Don’t,” CP-0515 says suddenly, steel fingers gripping the gauze Andy’s been threading between them. Andy appears surprised by the outburst, but he doesn’t say anything.

“You don’t know them. You don’t know me,” CP-0515 explains, even though his throat is so constricted he can barely speak.. “What I did was disgraceful. If they saw me again and decided to shoot me on the spot, it’d be justified. You weren’t there.”

Andy watches him carefully, jaw moving as though he’s trying to decide how to respond.

“I guess I wasn’t,” Andy says at last, loosening CP-0515’s fingers and continuing to bandage him. “But I don’t _care._ I know you now, _vod. Ni kar'tayli gar._ That’s all that matters.”

CP-0515 knows he’s crying, and he doesn’t care. Andy holds him in his heart, and still chooses him. Andy knows that CP-0515 is a mess of a man and still wants to split a protein bar at the end of the day. Bandage properly fastened, Andy wraps his hand around the back of CP-0515’s neck and touches their foreheads together, holding CP-0515 as he weeps.

Later that day, when CP-0515 is affixing a brand new gauge to a brand new speeder and Shadow asks him to join the highly anticipated mission, CP-0515 doesn’t hesitate to accept the appointment. Andy watches CP-0515 cautiously when Shadow asks if he’s sure he’s ready.

“I want to serve the Republic, sir,” CP-0515 says firmly, and he really, truly means it. “I want to help my brothers.” The sergeant grins at him.

“I’ve always had a good feeling about you, kid,” Shadow says before telling Leap, Crossbones, and Andy they’ll be going as well. Ringer bemoans this decision, loudly and to anyone who will listen.

“S’not fair,” Ringer whines to CP-0515, “why do you get all the fun?”

-

-

-

The Corellian senator’s family isn’t in any real danger, CP-0515 is sure, but a rise in criminal activity has the senator on edge. It’s for this reason that CP-0515 and his brothers are standing at attention before the sun has even risen, amphibious speeders lined up neatly for the escort.

“Just don’t see what the big deal is, is all,” Andy says around a yawn, the only one among them looking even remotely relaxed. Shadow’s too busy speaking with his captain via commlink to reprimand him.

“Couldn’t they hold the ceremony somewhere that’s not, you know…” Leap trails off, thinking of a proper description before settling on, “a fucking island?”

CP-0515 tries not to laugh at his brothers’ complaints. He never really had to deal with this kind of bureaucracy in the old company, although some of his more jaded brothers did complain about the odd political mission. He can’t help but agree with Andy, though - for all the talk around this mission, the fact that it’s nothing more than a glorified photo-op to celebrate a Corellian holiday seems kind of...silly. 

"Consider it a little excursion," Crossbones says, stretching. "I'm just glad for a change of scenery." Andy mutters something that sounds a lot like "vacation my ass", but all conversation ceases as Shadow approaches them.

"The captain and his squad will be traveling aboard the skiff with the senator, the five of us will be escorting them alongside," Shadow explains, looking at each of them in turn. "Once we reach the island we'll set up a perimeter. If all goes well, we'll be home by sunset with a nice tan."

"Any way I can switch squads?" Andy asks hopefully. Shadow just rolls his eyes, smiling good-naturedly.

"Not on your life," says Shadow. "Besides, you wouldn't get away with half as much of your bullshit under Captain Gamble, believe me."

The journey is relatively peaceful. CP-0515 even catches a glimpse of Senator Lorzo's young son, offering the boy a small, awkward wave in response to his furious attempts to get the soldiers to acknowledge him. The senator himself is too busy speaking to his aides to pay much attention to the boy, but the kid at least seems satisfied that CP-0515 has noticed him.

They arrive at the island and it's only upon arrival that CP-0515 learns it's called Oisle - literally, Oil Isle. The namesake is accurate, as far as he can tell - the beach is made up entirely of fine sand the color of obsidian, and the edges of the island seem to melt into the water, blending in with the dark of the ocean.

"We're not far from the equator now," Shadow explains as his men marvel at what looks like black gold. "All the beaches look like this there."

"What do the other beaches look like?" CP-0515 asks in awe. Shadow throws his head back and barks out a laugh at the question. CP-0515 feels a moment of humiliation, but it dissipates quickly when he notices that his brothers look just as curious - apparently they've never seen a beach either.

"Remind me to get you boys out of the factory more," Shadow says affectionately, shaking his head. "Most Corellian beaches are gold." The men look at one another in surprise.

"Well, they _look_ like gold," the sergeant clarifies. "This planet used to be a tourist trap, before the war. Rich folks would come here and lay in the sand and pretend they were bathing in it or something."

"And now look who's here," Andy says happily, stomping in the sand a little, kicking up the black powder and letting it stick to his boots.

"Unfortunately, we're not here on vacation. Andy, Crossbones, take the south side of the island..."

As the day wears on the island goes from sparsely populated to densely crowded, the lush black beaches decorated with ornate chairs and the festival participants laden with traditional jewelry of some kind. CP-0515 can see the senator's son from the water, running around his parents' feet and generally causing a ruckus. His parents repeatedly try to outfit him with some sort of ornate chain, but the boy keeps tossing it to the ground.

"What are they celebrating, anyway?" CP-0515 asks Leap through the comlink. The other clone makes a grunting sound.

"Founding Day, or something," Leap says, sounding supremely disinterested. "I think this is where they signed Corellian's unification treaty. Or maybe this is where they discussed it? I don't fucking know. I think they just like the look of the location."

CP-0515 laughs at that because based on what little he’s heard about politicians, it's probably true. He doesn't hold it against Senator Lorzo, however. This mission, which mainly involves sitting on his bobbing speeder and watching the ocean waves lap gently at a shore the color of night, is by far the prettiest he's ever been on. He knows the boys were looking for something a little more exciting, but CP-0515 just breathes a quiet sigh of relief at their luck.

The ceremony happens, without CP-0515 having even realized, and he prepares to head out when Shadow tells them to do another patrol of the island. Then a third. The sun is beginning to set when the festivities finally come to a conclusion, and CP-0515 can tell his brothers are thoroughly annoyed that they've been asked to babysit while the senator and his family and friends essentially held a party.

"At least we're not on Coruscant," CP-0515 offers, trying to relieve the irritation a little. "I think this is how most of their days go."

"Then the Coruscant guard is full of suckers, just like us," grumbles Leap.

Finally, as early evening is beginning to wane into night, Shadow has them get ready to accompany the senator's skiff once more. No criminals, no bombs, no messes. Just some drunk partygoers and stiff clone troopers.

"Almost home free, boys," Shadow says through the comlink. "Stay sharp for the ride home."

"Aww, and I was beginning to like it here," Andy says sarcastically.

CP-0515 does as he's told to, and keeps his eyes peeled, never taking his gaze off the water, even as Crossbones sings “Vode An” over the commlink, except he replaces a lot of words. Coruscant becomes Corellia, and "forged like a saber in the fires of death" becomes “forged like a seashell in the barbecue of Oisle".

"You're bastardizing our mother tongue," Leap says laughing.

"You don't even have a mother-" Andy replies, but they're cut off by a loud grinding noise and the skiff carrying the senator and his family slowing to a halt.

Everyone sits up straight, nerves on edge at the sudden interruption. This was not part of the mission.

"Two of the boys on board are looking into it," Shadow says before any of them can ask. "We might have to take on some passengers. Stay alert."

CP-0515 is practically vibrating with nervous energy, and he knows the others are as well. The skiff had been examined by the captain himself that morning, but it's possible someone had sabotaged the transport while the revelers were busy with Founding Day. That means that someone had to have done this while they were docked at Oisle, that means it's an inside job-

"Engine failure," Shadow announces, and CP-0515 sags with relief. "Damned things are getting cheaper by the day." CP-0515 almost asks if their assistance is needed, but he stops himself. On a ship-making planet like Corellia, almost every clone is a mechanic.

"Do we need to call for backup, sir?" CP-0515 asks instead.

"Remains to be seen. The boys think they can fix it, but it's no good to be out in the open water too long," Shadow says thoughtfully. "Sit tight, I'll keep you posted."

CP-0515 half-expects Andy to make another joke about being stuck out here even longer, but it would seem he's been temporarily silenced. In the night, ocean and sky practically blend together, the only light coming from the dull glow of the skiff and speeders, and the bright moon hanging low in the sky. CP-0515 tries not to let himself panic, even if unfamiliar darkness makes his chest tighten with fear. He's here with his brothers. They won't let him fall.

For a while, nobody says anything. The heavy silence is punctured only by the sound of the waves against the skiff, and occasionally the clanging of tools on metal. It's a foggy night, tonight, the stars hidden by thick, gray clouds. CP-0515's armor protects him from the elements, but it doesn't stop the chill that creeps its way across his neck and down his back. They've been out here too long, he decides, mentally willing Shadow to make the call for backup, when a low keening bubbles up from the water. CP-0515 stiffens on his speeder, and then the sound comes again, louder this time.

"What the hell-"

“Sarge, we need to get moving."

"That sounds fucking huge-"

"Quiet," Shadow says in the most authoritative tone CP-0515's ever heard him use. "Prepare to take on passeng-" Shadow is cut off as CP-0515 lurches suddenly, and it's all he can do to hold on to the amphibious speeder, finding himself tipped nearly upside down. CP-0515 tries to get his bearings but he's rocked forcibly again, the entire world spinning and salt water hitting him with such intensity that his head is whipped backwards. The comlink erupts with noise, his brothers cursing and yelling, and then a massive, inky shadow, darker than even the pitch black ocean, is passing beneath them.

"The skiff-" CP-0515 manages to say before a set of huge, thrashing tentacles takes hold of the transport and begins to pull. Blaster fire rings out in quick succession, aiming for the creature.

"Hold your fire!" Shadow commands, and CP-0515 and the others heed the order reluctantly. "We can't see the passengers, the boys will handle it."

"We can't just _sit_ here," Crossbones growls.

"We can shoot below," CP-0515 suggests, his brain working faster than its had to in months. "That thing's below the ship, we'll do more damage-"

"You heard him," Shadow grunts, taking aim and blasting at the water. They fire mercilessly on the creature, and CP-0515 tries to ignore the way he can hear the skiff's passengers shrieking. One of CP-0515's shots forces a loud groan from the animal, so he keeps at the spot, shooting again and again, until the thing's tentacles release the ship.

"I'm taking the senator," Shadow says the moment the transport is free. "Leap, get his wife, Crossbones the-"

There's another shriek, this one louder and more desperate, as the animal decides to shove the ship from below, tilting it violently, and sending a small, terrified figure into the water. Before the senator's son even makes contact, Captain Gamble is leaping off the ship and diving in after him. Shadow curses, riding over to their location, and CP-0515 follows suit. The captain is holding the wailing boy safely in his arms as he treads water.

"Stupid fucking son of a hut," Shadow is muttering through the comlink, taking the kid from Gamble, but even through the anger CP-0515 can tell the sergeant is worried. "Fucking moron, you'll get yourself killed - we were right here." The captain must respond, because Shadow curses again.

"Don’t give me this ‘faster’ bullshit!" the sergeant yells indignantly. CP-0515 reaches Gamble and stills his speeder, but before the captain can scramble on there's another sudden lurch, and all of them are forced away in a huge wave, and the shadowy figure appears once more. Massive, slick, and howling, the sea monster rises out of the pitch black ocean, the captain in one of its slippery tentacles.

The comlink is full of shouting once more, and blaster fire rains down on the monster, but it barely seems affected. CP-0515 freezes, the scene playing out with far too much familiarity. Shadow speeds closer to the animal, and when CP-0515 tries to warn the sergeant against it, his mouth won't work.

_I saw that thing attack Hardcase. It'll chew you up and spit you out._

Tup had managed to kill something eerily similar - but how?

CT-0515 takes aim with shaking fingers, pointing his blaster at the beast's gaping maw. The shot hits the tentacle holding Gamble, and manages to graze Gamble's shoulder. The animal roars furiously, splashing the water and drawing Shadow and CP-0515 ever closer, and CP-0515 feels as though his heart is simply going to give out.

“Get out of there, _vod!”_ comes Andy’s panicked voice, crackling over the comlink. CP-0515 takes a long, deep breath, and refocuses.

This isn’t Umbara. This is Corellia, and his brothers are in danger, and he can help them, if he gets it right.

He won’t get it wrong again.

CP-0515 pulls the trigger and the blast lands squarely in the mouth of the roaring animal. The sea monster lets out a tremendous shudder that seems to shake the entire ocean, and then it collapses into the murky water, releasing Gamble from its grasp.

The others whoop and holler, and CP-0515 breathes a sigh of relief as he hears the skiff’s engine rumble back to life. CP-0515 looks around, searching for any more threats, but it would seem the monster traveled alone. He almost laments it - CP-0515 hasn’t felt this powerful in...well, ever. He can’t help it - he hollers along with the others. He wants to dive into the water and wrestle something out of it, he wants to climb the flagpole adorning the skiff and shout into the night, he never wants to stop feeling so alive.

Shadow hands the sobbing child back to his parents and then hauls Gamble onto his speeder. The captain removes his bucket, laughing uproariously.

“Nice shot, kid!” he calls, grinning in CP-0515’s direction. “What the hell do they call you?”

Everyone seems to hold their breath. Everyone, except the trooper in question.

“Dogma,” he says for the first time in ages, and when his brothers cheer him on, it feels like coming home.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I have a lot of notes because between the Mando'a translations and the millions of thoughts buzzing around my head about Dogma, I could write a whole new fic. Let's start with the former:
> 
> -
> 
>  _Cin vhetin_ \- Fresh start, clean slate. This is meant to indicate the erasure of an individual's past when they become Mandalorian, but I personally hold the headcanon that the clones' version of Mando'a has shifted and changed as it gets passed between them. Dogma doesn't necessarily understand the significance of the phrase in regards to Mandalorian culture, but I would argue his placement on Corellia represents something very similar.
> 
>  _Vod_ \- Brother (also sister or mate). AKA the first Mando'a word I ever learned, and the one everyone knows.
> 
>  _Ke'pare_ \- Wait!
> 
>  _Mhi ba'slana tome._ \- We leave together. At least, I hope that's what it means. I went from wanting to include a few words and phrases to conjugating verbs in Mando'a, so. That was fun.
> 
>  _Kaminii hut'uuns._ \- Kaminoan cowards. This is the worst possible insult in Mando'a, so it's clear no one in Jolt Company has much love for the Kaminoans.
> 
>  _Vod'ika_ \- Little brother. "Ika" is a diminutive suffix in Mando'a, and therefore can be tacked on to the end of things as a term of endearment -Dog'ika, for example, would be similar to saying "Little Dogma".
> 
>  _Tayli'bac_ \- Got it?/Okay?/Understand? This is meant to be said aggressively - I used this to emphasize how serious Andy was being.
> 
>  _Ni kar'tayli gar._ \- I know you/I hold you in my heart.
> 
> -
> 
> Annnnd that's it for the Mando'a. In all seriousness, learning the language was actually fun, and probably more effort than I've put into learning any real language, including my own. The Mando'a page on the Star Wars languages wiki and the Mando'a Database at mandoa.org really helped me out, if anyone is curious about Mando'a themselves.
> 
> I picked Dogma's birth number for a specific reason - can you guess why? I'll give you a hint: it's not Star Wars-related.
> 
> I really wanted to focus on Dogma's loyalty and love for his brothers. The action of his I was most struck by in Clone Wars (apart from shooting Krell, good for you baby) was his insistence that Tup join him in reporting Fives, Hardcase, and Jesse. Dogma seemed pretty capable of snitching alone, so why include Tup? My reasoning is that he was trying to look out for his brother, one of the only brothers who he believed remained "loyal" to Krell and, by extension, the rest of the troops. I personally believe that Dogma, like most of us, had a soft spot for Tup, and was trying to protect him.
> 
> Another thing I wanted to focus on was Dogma getting to relax and have fun. I made him a little awkward, but I want to be clear: this isn't a trait exclusive to Dogma. I know a lot of people write the clones as generally smooth, and that's totally cool, but I personally believe they'd stick their feet in their mouths the first time they spoke to someone who isn't a brother or a commanding officer. Some of them might develop charisma over time, but it would take a lottt of socialization outside of the GAR. The few clones I believe wouldn't be totally hopeless are the ones like Hardcase, who would probably just be himself and not be afraid to interact with civilians. I imagine the Wolfpack would be naturally charismatic as well, since they probably deal with civilians a lot on relief missions.
> 
> I intend to do a second chapter of this story, and maybe (big maybe) a series revolving around Dogma's life post-Order 66. The next chapter will showcase more of Shadow, and will deal heavily with Dogma learning the fate of his brothers from the 501st. However, I doubt I'll post it any time soon, since this took a lot out of me (12.5k??? Who AM I???), and I have an upcoming exchange fic to write. I'm really proud of this fic, though, and I have a lot of ideas for Dogma's future, so I definitely plan to put up Chapter 2 sooner rather than later. I know I meant to write more thoughts in the notes, but I'm running out of characters, so maybe it's for the best I stop here.
> 
> Thank you for reading. 
> 
> Title from Mother Mother's "Body".


End file.
